


Jawbreaker

by NanakiBH



Category: Pocket Monsters: Black & White | Pokemon Black and White Versions
Genre: Bloodplay, Incest, M/M, Subway Masters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-20
Updated: 2011-04-20
Packaged: 2017-11-04 05:38:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 937
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/390355
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NanakiBH/pseuds/NanakiBH
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Time and space feel at odds on the train car. Their thoughts drift apart but always stay together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Jawbreaker

An hour until they reached their destination. Kudari is going to go out of his mind with boredom if he doesn't find a way to entertain himself soon. Fortunately, at least he has Nobori sitting across from him on this ride. They left the station a rather long time ago, so he suspects that if any trainers are ever going to reach their car on this trip, then they'll have to get themselves prepared for battle soon. It would look rather silly if the two of them were caught idly lounging around like they didn't care about their positions as Masters.

“Nobori,” he says, trying not to sound as absolutely bored as he feels. “We should get up. You're slouching.”

The corners of Nobori's eyes widen and he immediately sits straight up in his seat, as if horrified that he'd let himself become so lax. Others didn't get to see that too often from his frowny brother, but he enjoyed being able to see that side of him that occasionally got careless. If he's not mistaken, it seemed as though he was even starting to doze off.

“Tired?” he asks.

Nobori shakes his head and thrusts his hands into his pockets. “Hardly. Just... stagnating.”

“Stagnating? You're so bored that you're collecting cobwebs in your head?”

He shoots him a glare and a quirk of his brow that means that he doesn't find his restlessness to be as amusing as Kudari seems to find it. “Tell me you're not,” he says. “We've an hour to go. We aren't going to get any challengers. You're bored.”

Kudari's expression drops and he leans back to put his hands in his pockets. Spreading his heels apart, he fits into a mirror image of the one across from him. And... look at that, he forgot he put candy in his pocket this morning, that's kind of nice. Smirking, he pulls it out and makes a show of unwrapping it with painstaking slowness. Certain that his brother's watching, he holds the round piece of candy between his fingers and runs the flat of his tongue over it before he curls his tongue around it and sticks it in his cheek.

“Jealous?”

Nobori shrugs, but it's obvious that he was watching it and no matter what his face is like, Kudari knows he liked it.

He points to Nobori's hands stuffed into his pockets and waves his finger. “Well? Got anything interesting?”

Nobori doesn't even blink as he brings his fist out of his pocket and flicks open a pocket knife.

There isn't a name for the feeling that strikes Kudari, but he laughs and claps his hands together, bending forward to inspect the little knife. “Nice, nice! How unexpected!” Nobori is still looking at him with that hungry, predatory look of his and there's something especially thrilling about it now. The edge of that thing changes everything.

The way he leans forward, holding the knife straight up, changes the energy of the car and brings the kind of ferocity they'd only have with an opponent in front of them. Kudari looks into his eyes and knows that they're sharing a thought.

No trainers?

No problem, they have each other. They have their own excitement now.

Nobori beckons him forward wordlessly with a slow wave of the tip. Kudari's eyes follow it as it goes back and forth and he sucks in a breath, barely realizing that he's already pushing himself up from his seat. His feet feel like they must be numb and his mind feels like it's someplace else, watching from faraway as he gets closer and closer until he sinks down to his knees in front of him between his legs.

Nobori tilts his chin up with it. The edge grazes his skin lightly, but he can still feel how sharp it is, how easy it would be for it to cut straight through him. It must be that stagnating stillness, that swaying silence of the traincar that makes him consider taking him by the wrist to force his hands forward.

He takes a deep breath and feels it pinch his throat until he feels a warm drop roll down his neck.

“They aren't coming?” he asks quietly, his eyes looking in no particular place.

His brother wets his lips and nods after a moment. His hand eases away and he places his other palm at the back of Kudari's head, gently running his fingers through his hair, massaging his neck. Kudari breathes out softly as a thumb is pressed to his lower lip.

“No one.”

Nobori's eyes are trained on his lips; round, petal-soft beneath his fingers. His hand guides itself up, the tip of the pocketknife reaches the middle of his bottom lip, and he presses down lightly until the skin separates under it and splits open. The blood refuses to flow until he moves the blade away and then the red rolls down his chin and drips onto his white pantleg.

“I'll give you this,” he says, handing him the knife.

Kudari doesn't have to think to know what he's saying. He takes the knife and holds it loosely between his fingers at first, then firm and sure as he places it over his brother's lip and brings it down in the same way as his own.

“You're smiling,” Nobori says. “You've been smiling this whole time,” he says, and his eyes get a bit soft.

Kudari doesn't stop smiling when he realizes that he's right. He leans up or pulls him down – either way, they're shoulder to shoulder and the blood on their mouths tastes quite identical.


End file.
